Outbreak (Book 1): Emerald City (28 page)

CLARK

Clark stood in the hospital lobby and counted the seconds as they ticked by on his watch. He had been up pulling guard duty for the last hour, watching the sun come up, and was sick of fighting to stay awake. He checked his watch again and saw it was finally time to wake Rocha, the Snoring Giant. He walked over to the soldier and carefully nudged him on the arm. Rocha paused in mid snore and popped open one eye. “All good?” Rocha asked.

“Yes,” Clark replied and sat down. There was no immediate danger. Things had been strangely quiet. Last night, they had easily reached the hospital in under an hour and gone inside through the open front lobby entrance. The building was pitch black inside. Any emergency lighting had died a long time ago. Clark had hoped to find the documentation on the patient that had been resistant to the disease and then get back out of the hospital, but Rocha had vetoed the idea.

“Moving around in the dark in such close quarters is too risky,” he had said. “Let’s find a spot and bunk down until daylight. You look dead on your feet anyway, Doc.” Clark had been in favor of getting some sleep, so he reluctantly agreed. Unfortunately, Rocha had insisted they pull a 50-50 shift where one person stood guard while the other slept. Clark had worked some awful hours over the last few months, but sleeping every other hour through the night just plain sucked. The only way Clark had been able to stay awake on his shifts was to stand in the center of the lobby and listen to Rocha snore away, one hour at a time. Now it was finally morning and Clark willed himself to keep his eyes open while he watched Rocha dig into his pack. The soldier took out an energy bar and tossed it to Clark. Clark reached for it, fumbled it in the air, dropped it, and picked it back up. “Nice hands,” Rocha joked.

Clark knew he actually had amazing hands, hands that had done cosmetic miracles on his patients before the outbreak. Those hands had made some beautiful creations and he had been well compensated for his work. As he bit into his breakfast he looked at Rocha again. “You have no idea,” he said. Rocha raised an eyebrow in question. “Never mind. When you were here the first time, is this the way you came in?”

Rocha chewed on his breakfast, another energy bar. “Nope,” he replied. “We had chopper support last time. Dropped us off on the roof. Just like they did on the cruise ship.”

Clark nodded. “So,” he said. “You haven’t cleared this part of the building?”

“Nope.”

“But you know the way to the lab. Right?”

Rocha shrugged. “Not so much. General idea.”

Shit!
Clark thought. “So we have to search floor-by-floor?”

“Pretty much,” Rocha said and finished his breakfast.

Clark wanted to get pissed but knew it would not help. He wanted to scream that they needed to get to the lab, get the documentation, get the hell out of the hospital, and get to work on a cure.
A cure which could save the world!
he thought.
But throwing a tantrum right now is not going to get anything done.
“Whatever you say,” he said.

“Damn straight,” Rocha said and stood up to put on his pack. “We take it slow. I did some recon while you were sleeping and there is a candy machine down the hall that was broken into.”

Clark was not thrilled at the thought of Rocha running off while Clark slept unaware, but he continued to keep his mouth shut. Rocha never complained, so why should he? “You think there are survivors then?” Clark asked.

“Well, at least at one time,” Rocha said. “The floor is streaked with blood, so it's hard to say if they are still survivors.”

Clark’s stomach sank at the thought and he considered if he wanted to finish his breakfast. “Wonderful,” he said.

Rocha was ready to go, with his pack on and rifle in his hand. “Let’s get this done,” he said.

“Ok,” Clark replied and stuffed the rest of the energy bar into his mouth. It tasted like cardboard and his stomach was protesting, but he knew full well he might not get another chance to eat any time soon. He took his handgun out of the holster on his leg and held it pointing down with both hands as he followed Rocha out of the lobby and into the heart of the hospital. As soon as they got away from the sunlight, it got very dark. Rocha avoided the streaks of blood on the floor and kept to one side as he crept forward. Clark checked behind them to make sure they were not being followed.
Nobody home,
he thought and turned back around and watched as Rocha peeked down a short hallway to their right.

“Right side clear,” Rocha whispered and continued forward. They moved halfway down the main corridor when Rocha stopped at another corner. He peeked around. “Contact,” he whispered and Clark crept up behind him. “Left side,” Rocha continued. “Three targets.”

Clark quickly looked behind them again and then back to the front. Except for litter and streaks of blood on the floor, the hallway was empty in all directions. “It’s clear behind us,” he said.

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!

“Left side clear,” Rocha said and continued again silently down the corridor. Clark hurried to catch up as Rocha continued to check each opening to the left and right. They passed a door marked ‘Stairwell’ and then approached a major intersection where Clark could hear the moans of infected and what sounded like a bunch of scratching on a door. Rocha stopped at the intersection and stood so that he could just see around the corner. He waved for Clark to come forward. Clark was not sure he wanted to look, but he got down on one knee next to Rocha and peeked around to see a crowd of infected up against a set of double doors. Most were wearing lab coats and nurses’ scrubs. Clark watched and could tell from as bad as they were clawing at the door, they wanted whatever was on the other side really bad. The group of infected was completely oblivious to Clark and Rocha hiding in the hallway behind them. “I’ve got this,” Rocha whispered.

“Why don’t you use your knives?” Clark asked.

Rocha grinned at Clark. “I was just showing off before,” he said. “No time to screw around now.” He stepped out into the hallway behind the mob of infected and crept forward with his weapon pointed in front of him. Suddenly he fired at the head of the nearest infected.
Thwip!
The infected fell forward onto the back of the monster in front of it.

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!

Three more infected fell. Clark watched as Rocha quickly and efficiently executed each infected, one shot to the head. In seconds the mob was reduced to a collection of dead bodies. Clark came out from behind the corner and stood next to Rocha as he tried the handle on the double doors. It pulled open about half an inch but a thick chain and padlock held it closed from the inside “Shit,” he complained.

“What?” Clark asked. “Can’t shoot it?”

“There’s no angle,” Rocha said. “We need to get the attention of whoever is on the other side of this door. But I tell you what, those people in there might very well be armed. Startling someone with a gun is a good way to get shot, so step back.” Clark stepped back against the wall, flanking the doors, while Rocha did the same on the other side of the hallway. He watched as Rocha reached out and knocked on the double doors.

“Do not shoot,” Rocha said. “United States military. We are here to evacuate you.”

Clark could hear whispers from the other side and the rustling of people. “There are zombies out there,” came a quiet voice.

“Not anymore,” Rocha replied. “Can you open the door, please?”

“Are you sure they are gone?” the voice asked.

Rocha looked down at the pile of dead bodies. “Pretty sure, ma’am.”

“Ok,” the voice said. “One second.”

Clark heard the sounds of a barricade being taken down, then the rattle of the chain, and a moment later one of the doors opened slightly inward. The face of a very tired woman appeared. “Where did they all go?” she asked.

Clark looked down at the seven corpses at their feet.
Really?
he thought and was about to point out the fact that if she looked down she would see, but he expected she had seen enough trauma. Perhaps was even in shock.

“They are taken care of, ma’am,” Rocha said gently. “Please back away from the door and let me and my partner come in. He is a doctor. We are here to help.”

“Alright,” the woman said and opened the door. Clark stepped gingerly over the bodies and followed Rocha into the room. It was an operating theater with a large table in the center and enormous circular lights surrounding it. All were dark. Clark closed the double doors behind them, pitching the room into darkness.

“Light,” Rocha said and turned on a flashlight on his vest. Clark dug around until he found one Rocha had given him earlier and fumbled for the switch. Turning it on, he saw a small group of people huddled in the corner where they held their hands up against the light.

“We have water,” Rocha said and removed his pack. He took out a two-quart bottle of water and handed it to the woman who immediately handed it to a child in the back. The child was so filthy Clark could not tell if it was a boy or girl, but the kid drank quickly from the bottle and handed it to another person, an old man. Clark scanned them for signs of infection but did not see any visible symptoms. He also did not see any other food or water.

“We need to evacuate you to the roof,” Rocha said and picked up his pack. “Can everyone walk?”

The woman nodded.

“Are there more survivors?” Rocha asked.

“I don’t know,” the woman said.

“I heard noises,” a man said. “Tapping and murmurs like talking.”

“Where?” Rocha asked.

“Basement … I think,” the man replied. “I hear them sometimes through the vents.”

Clark shined his lamp along the walls and saw an air vent.
Makes sense,
he thought.
Sound could easily carry through the ventilation system.
He looked at Rocha. “Sounds likely,” he said. Rocha nodded and put his hand on the woman’s shoulder. “We’ll come back for any others but first we’re going to escort you to the roof. All of you.”

“Thank you,” the woman said with tears streaming down her face. She stepped inside Rocha’s arms and gave him a hug. Rocha looked surprised but then patted the woman gently on her back.

“It’s my pleasure, ma’am. Now let’s go,” Rocha said to the woman as he stepped back and helped the remaining survivors to their feet. “Follow the doctor out.”

“Me?” Clark asked.

“Damn straight,” Rocha said. “Get them down the hallway and take a left. Go to that stairwell we passed. Problem?”

“No,” Clark said. “No problem.”

“Good. Okay everyone, listen up,” Rocha said turning to the group. “Everyone line up and stay between me and the doctor. The last thing we want is for someone to get separated. But, no matter what we run into, don’t stop unless you absolutely have to. We need to get to the roof. Clear?” Everyone nodded so Clark went back to the double doors. The survivors lined up behind him, with the woman who had first opened the door for them standing at the front.

“Ready?” he asked her. She nodded and Clark cracked the door. He peeked outside. All clear. He opened the door and stepped over the bodies to walk down the hallway. One of the children cried out when they saw the pile of dead infected and Clark worried it might bring trouble. “Shhh,” he heard someone whisper and then it was quiet again as they hurried their way down to the intersection. His heart beating fast in his chest, Clark looked in every direction. There was nothing to see. Confident they were still alone, he led the group of survivors to the stairwell. Once inside he turned to the woman.

“Everyone still with us?” he asked.

She looked down the line of survivors behind her. “Yes,” she said.

“Okay,” Rocha said, coming to the front of the line. He looked up the stairwell. “I’ll take point from here. Clark, cover our exit.” Clark nodded. “Follow me,” Rocha said to the group and aimed his rifle in front of him as he started up the stairs. Clark watched the line of survivors scamper past him and up the stairs. After the last of them had gone by, Clark looked at an emergency route map on the wall next to the inside of the door. It outlined an escape route in the event of a fire. They were on floor “L1” and the map showed there were another five floors above them.
Going to be a bitch of a climb
, he thought and followed the last person in line up the stairs, looking behind him every few steps to make sure they were still alone.

TASHA

Tasha was being smothered. She could not breathe. She opened her eyes and saw the ghoul’s rotten and lipless face, only inches away from hers. He had his hand over her mouth so she could not scream. Her long hair was wrapped around his fist and he held her down. Tasha could feel the pressure of his knife in her side.
Oh my God, oh my God ...

Tasha jerked awake, covered in sweat. Her eyes wide with fear, she looked all around. She was alone.
Just a dream
, she thought.
Thank God.
It had felt so real, being back in the locker in the cannery, the stalker back and holding her down again. Rubbing her face, she shook off the nightmare and thought about the day before. After they had assaulted the warehouse balcony, Williams wanted to make camp in the boat warehouse where they were attacked. “Enough excitement for one day,” he had said. Tasha had agreed with him. After they put the bodies of their two attackers into one of the boats on the bottom level of the warehouse, the team spent the rest of the afternoon going through all of the crap the two men had acquired. What they had was mostly junk, but at least there had been some food and alcohol.

“Can we drink, Sergeant?” Cleveland had asked holding up one of the beer cans. Williams had agreed and everyone settled down to eat and have a drink. By the time it got dark, Cleveland was very drunk and promptly fell asleep, so Tanner put a blanket over him.

“Light weight,” Ortiz had said, taking a swig of beer. Williams, who Tasha thought looked a little drunk himself, had laughed.

“I’m calling it a night,” he had said as he stood up. Williams and Ortiz then went into one boat with the remaining six pack of beer. Tasha and Tanner made eye contact and Tanner had just shrugged.
Definitely something going on there
, Tasha thought.

“So, uh …” Tanner started. Tasha raised an eyebrow. The young man motioned at another one of the boats. “Uh … hey, I promise if you want to bunk down someplace more comfortable, I’ll be a perfect gentleman, no funny business.” Tasha believed him and had agreed. They found a boat with a bed and a couple blankets. It was brand new and clean, but more important, it was comfortable. They buttoned up the hatch so no one, living or infected, could get in. Feeling relatively safe for the first time in a long time, Tasha had laid down on the bed, feeling very sleepy. As he had promised, Tanner did not try anything inappropriate and they fell asleep in each other's arms.

But where is Tanner now?
Tasha thought looking around the boat’s interior. She got up and opened the boat’s top hatch. The sun was up and the other four of the team were standing around a table looking at Williams’s map. She frowned.
I'm still not one of the gang
. Climbing up onto the deck and then down a short ladder to the balcony floor, she walked over and joined them. Tanner smiled at her. She smiled back but then focused on Williams. He was explaining that he had been on the roof of the warehouse earlier in the morning and had seen some kind of parking lot or gas station to the south. He pointed at the location on the map with his finger.

“I think this is us,” he said. “Right here.” He traced a line down the map. “Down there must be where they load trucks or something. There’s a bunch of vans lined up and a whole bunch of trailers packed together.”

“How far do you figure that is from here?” Tanner asked. “Half a mile?”

“Probably not even that,” Williams replied. “When we get there, I want to find a heavy truck or something big. Something we can drive straight through a wall of those vegetables and not even slow down.”

Cleveland looked at Ortiz. “Can you drive a semi-truck?” he asked.

“She can handle it,” Williams answered for her. “Most have automatic transmissions now anyhow. Get some chow and get packed up. Cleveland, get some water in you, you look like shit. I had a chat with Command this morning and it sounds like there is one hell of a storm on the way. Should be here tonight, so I want to be back at Command before it hits. Let’s be on the move in ten minutes.”

Tasha dug through the stash of food they had found and took a can of chicken noodle soup with a pull-top lid. She opened the can and ate the soup cold while she put on her boots and the rest of her gear. Tanner walked over with a five gallon water container. “How much water do you have left?” he asked. Tasha checked her canteens. One was empty and the other felt about half full.

“I’m a little low,” she answered and Tanner filled them up. “Where did you get that?” she asked.

“Out of the truck,” he replied. “I got it this morning when it was just me and Sergeant Williams who were up.”

“You see any creepers out there?”

“Nope. Not a single one. It’s kind of strange.”

Williams came over, he was geared from his helmet to his heavy combat boots. The radio was attached to shoulder straps and Williams had it on his back with the antenna sticking up over his head. “Communications check,” he said and then keyed the handset connected to his shoulder. “Can you read me?”

“All good,” Tanner said.

“I got you,” Cleveland replied.

“Same here,” Tasha agreed.

“Ortiz,” Williams said into the handset. “You copy?”

“Affirmative,” came her response.

“Where is she?” Tasha asked.

“I sent her downstairs to check things out,” Williams explained. “Let's go.”

Williams lead the three of them downstairs to the entrance where Ortiz was crouched. “Anything?” Williams asked her.

“Just one,” Ortiz replied. “It came in through the same gate we used when we ran over the spike strip.”

“Is it going to be a problem?” Williams asked.

“Never again.”

“Good work,” Williams said. “Let’s move.”

They jogged down the street in front of the warehouse in a single file line. They turned a corner and Tasha realized the whole facility was a giant cement complex. Ortiz lead the way with Williams behind her, then Cleveland, Tasha and then Tanner bringing up the rear. They stopped at every corner so Ortiz could look around and make sure there were no threats. They passed two buildings the same way, never encountering anyone or anything. Tasha began to think the place was completely deserted.

“Two more blocks, take a right,” Williams ordered. “I’m thinking we’re about a thousand meters out. Keep your eyes open. If we like the idea of finding a truck, someone else probably did too.”

“You guys hear that?” Tasha asked. It sounded to her like the ocean, but she knew they were in a bay on the edge of the Puget Sound. The actual ocean was miles away to the west. She looked further down the road, but one of the warehouses along the way had been destroyed and spilled out onto the lane, blocking their view. “What’s that noise?”

“Hell if I know,” Williams replied. “Stay sharp everyone. Whatever it is, it probably isn’t good.”

They went forward two blocks and stopped, staring at the rubble from the warehouse. The noise was louder now. It was hissing and growling.
I only know one thing which makes sounds like that
, Tasha thought.
But it is so loud ...
Whatever it was, it was on the other side of the pile of concrete. Slowly, the five of them climbed the rubble, lying on their stomachs as they reached the top, and peered over to look at the other side.

“Good Lord,” Ortiz said.

“That’s bad,” Williams whispered.

Tasha looked over the top of the rubble and saw a section of the boatyard’s massive fence. It was heavy duty, designed to keep anyone and everyone out of the shipping yard. Now it was doing one hell of a job at keeping out the creepers.
And not just a few creepers
, Tasha thought. They were standing three deep lined up against the fence. They looked like they wanted in and they wanted in really bad.

“What the hell do you think drew them?” Tanner asked. “Our gunfire last night?”

Williams shrugged. “Doubt it, but something has been going on around here. Something those vegetables really honed in on.”

“I don’t think we have enough ammunition,” Tasha said.

“We probably should have closed the gate back at that ambush site,” Cleveland offered.

“Yeah, no shit,” Williams replied. “I’m not going to worry about that now. Change of plans. Back up and go around. Last thing I want to do is go and get those bastards over there any more riled up than they already are. Tanner, you’re on point.”

The group turned and began to scoot down the wall of rubble. Tanner moved to jump down and caught his shin on a piece of concrete. He twisted in the air, came down wrong and fell onto his side with a grunt of pain.

“Dammit,” Williams whispered. “Be careful.”

“I’m okay,” Tanner said, but Tasha did not think anyone believed him. It looked like it really hurt. He stood up gingerly, using his machine gun as a crutch. “It’s okay,” he repeated. “No problem. Let's go.”

Williams and Ortiz climbed down next to him. “You sure?” Williams asked.

“Nope,” Tanner joked with a grin. He tested his leg and was able to stand flat on both feet. “But I don’t think it’s broken.”

“Stay on point then,” Williams said. “Keep moving.”

Tanner started back in the direction they came, with Tasha behind him. She saw him start out with a limp, but it went away as he moved quickly back along the row of warehouses. Once they reached the end of the first building, they took a left and skirted along a cement wall. The streets were empty. Everything was desolate and Tasha wondered what it was that the creepers wanted inside the fence before they came along. They came to an alley and Tanner lead them inside. They crouched next to a dumpster and Williams took out his map.

“This is good,” he said pointing to a line on the map. “Follow this down and we go right into the back side of the garage.” He looked at Tanner. “How is the leg?”

Tanner hesitated. “It’s my ankle. And, not so good,” he admitted.

“Let me know if it gets worse,” Williams said. “Ortiz. You’re back in front.”

Tanner grit his teeth but kept his mouth shut.

Tasha put her hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” she said. “We’ll get you patched up here in a bit.”

Tanner nodded, but Tasha knew he was in pain, both from his ankle and because he probably thought he was letting the team down. She could relate. When she had been a freshman in high school she had turned her ankle in volleyball. The pain was temporary, but missing the season opener and thinking she had let her team down had haunted her for the entire season.

“Moving,” Ortiz said and lead them down the alley. They ran down the outside of the same warehouse, just on the opposite side, until they could see the parking lot. “Hold up here,” Williams said and looked around. “Tanner?”

“Sergeant,” he replied.

“Take Tasha and the sniper rifle. See if you can get up on one of these buildings. We could use some eyes in the sky.”

“You got it,” Tanner said and looked around. “That looks good.”

Tasha saw what Tanner was looking at ... a fire escape. It was about the last thing she wanted to tackle, but no way was she going to let the group down. “Works for me,” she said.

“Give us a boost,” Tanner said to Cleveland and the three of them went over to the side of the warehouse. Tanner and Cleveland lifted Tasha up so she could reach the bottom ladder. Carefully, trying not to make any noise, they lowered her and the ladder to the ground.

Cleveland gave them a thumbs up. “Let me know when you are in position,” he said and went back over to Williams and Ortiz.

Tasha lead the way up the fire escape. It was rusted and old, but still strong, and as soon as she reached the rooftop, she crouched low and ran to the corner nearest the parking lot. Tasha rested the sniper rifle on the brick ledge, pointed it toward the garage, and waited for Tanner. His face was bright red as he gingerly sat down next to her on the gravel rooftop and leaned his back against the inside of the ledge.

“I think I seriously hurt my ankle,” he said. “Sucks.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Tasha said, trying to sound reassuring. “We will be back to Command soon.” Before he could reply, she looked through the rifle scope at the garage. “We’ll just hang out up here and keep an eye on things.”

“Yeah,” he said and glanced up and over the rooftop wall. “In position,” Tanner said into his radio handset.

“What do you see?” Williams replied through the radio. Tanner looked at Tasha for an answer.

Tasha looked through the scope at the parking lot. There was a red brick garage of some kind on the far end, nearest the fence with the horde of creepers piled up against it. There was some kind of makeshift parking lot to the west of the building. The windows were grimy and dirty, but it looked to her like there were at least two men moving around. “I’ve got two, maybe three guys in the garage,” she said. “They look like they are working on something.”

“Anyone on guard?” Williams asked.

“Not that I can see,” Tasha replied.

“Distance?” Williams asked.

It looked to her to be about one track length from their building to the garage. “One hundred meters,” she said and Tanner relayed the information to Williams.